


The Feeling’s Mutual

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Communication, Feelings, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Love Confessions, M/M, No Angst, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Semi-established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25324915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Harry buries his face in the crook of Draco’s neck and inhales, completely relaxing in Draco’s arms.Eventually they pull apart slightly, just enough for Harry to tilt his face up and meet Draco’s eyes, “God, I missed you.”Draco’s eyes are soft, earnest, and slightly teasing as he smirks at Harry. “The feeling’s mutual, Potter.”…In which Draco and Harry have been in a relationship for about two years, though they’ve never actually put a label on it. After Draco returns home after a month long business trip, they both communicate and actually talk directly about their feelings.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 14
Kudos: 302
Collections: Anonymous





	The Feeling’s Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty self indulgent, not gonna lie. I just combined a bunch of stuff I like and put it all together. Hope you like it!

Harry hears the familiar sound of keys turning in the lock, jolting him out of his cozy blanket cocoon on his favorite overstuffed couch. So comfortable. Though his mind is still a bit hazy from dozing off, Harry’s heart skips a beat and he’s filled with warmth and anticipation.  _Draco_.

The door opens and Draco walks in, wearing grey joggers and a soft black cotton t-shirt, blonde hair slightly damp from a recent shower. He shuts the door behind him. Harry rushes to greet him, grinning wildly as he pulls him into a tight embrace. Draco laughs softly and wraps his warm arms around the shorter man, rubbing his back slowly and firmly. Harry buries his face in the crook of Draco’s neck and inhales, completely relaxing in Draco’s arms.

Eventually they pull apart slightly, just enough for Harry to tilt his face up and meet Draco’s eyes, “God, I missed you.”

Draco’s eyes are soft, earnest, and slightly teasing as he smirks at Harry. “The feeling’s mutual, Potter.”

Draco looks Harry up and down, taking everything in. He’s freshly showered as well, brown hair still sticking up in various directions, wearing a cozy, worn pair of navy blue sweatpants and a snug white tee that hugs his muscular torso quite nicely. Green eyes both sincere and beaming, tinged with a hint of sleep.

“Well you’re fucking adorable, Potter,” Draco’s voice is tender as he’s completely and utterly straightforward. Doesn’t see a point in playing coy for very long. Not with his Harry. “Now come here and let me hold you some more. Yeah, I bloody well missed this. Can’t get you out of my head, can I?”

Harry’s cheeks tinge a delicious pink as he gives Draco a warm smile and rests his head back onto Draco’s lean muscular chest. Draco gently settles one hand on the back of Harry’s neck while slowly rubbing up and down Harry’s back with the other. Harry lets out a content sigh. They stay like that for while, just soaking each other in, completely wrapped up in one another.

These are the moments that Harry especially loves. These quiet private moments between the two of them, just Harry and Draco, and everything else just fades away. It’s so warm, so comfortable, and so  _safe_ — Draco’s strong arms holding him in place, rubbing his back and neck soothingly. It feels like home. A home that Harry has never quite experienced before. He didn’t know it was possible for him after everything. It feels like  _love_.

Harry tenses slightly as that thought pops up in his head. He wants this, he wants all of it with Draco. The thing is, however, he doesn’t exactly know what this  _thing_ is. And he wants to figure it out. He  _need_ _s_ to figure it out.

Draco’s finally back from America after being away for a month and a half. He had several potions brewing consultations with some important American clients. Harry knows it’s the right time to talk to Draco, but the whole “What are we exactly?” conversation still scares him.

They’ve been doing this  _thing_ for almost two years now, and it’s been  _wonderful_. Not always easy, but they managed to get through the negative _Prophet_ articles released when they were seen in public together. They powered through the hate from many people who were angry that their precious  _Chosen One_ was friends with a former Death Eater. But, as Harry tells anyone who asks, the war was ten years ago. He’s forgiven Draco.

Draco has shown countless times that he has truly changed from the scared teenage boy who was in way over his head. He will never be able to change what he did during the war. But Draco has grown since then. He’s become a brilliant, selfless, and kind man who works pro bono half the time, brewing medicinal potions for wizards in need who could never afford his hourly rate. He’s an established business owner, renown for his unique and powerful potions. He’s proud, a bit arrogant, witty, and sarcastic. Harry  _loves_ it. Loves  _him_.

Draco also volunteers a large portion of his free time, helping out at the group home Harry runs for wizarding children with difficult home lives. So much time, in fact, that he really should be paid as a part time employee, as Harry has told him multiple times but—

_ “Potter, I am not taking a single Knut of your money no matter how many times you try to tell me I should. I certainly don’t need it and I don’t want it. Use it for the children,” Draco’s grey eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles fondly. _

_ “And don’t think that I’ll change my mind if you offer to blow me whenever I want. Like you’re the one doing me a favor. Merlin knows your mouth is heavenly, but I know you enjoy it just as much as I do, don’t even try and deny it,” as Harry opens his mouth to protest then closes it abruptly. He’s not wrong after all. _

As far as the general public is concerned, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are simply, well,  _friends_.

They’re seen in public together, whether it’s going out to lunch or taking Teddy to the park or going to music festivals, to name a few.

They never kiss or hold hands in public; they’re both very private individuals. But some of the pictures that get taken of them in public— they’re not even touching, but the way they look at each other— it leads to speculation about what their relationship really entails. Harry and Draco never answer any questions in that regard, just with a small smile, eyes twinkling, and a simple, “We enjoy each other’s company. No further questions.”

They both know that they’re way past the “Friends with Benefits Who Have a Toothbrush and a Change of Clothes at Each Other’s House” stage. They have keys to each other’s houses. Whenever they’re both at home, they alternate  _living_ with each other for Christ’s sake.

They’re always going on little adventures together:

They hike through Malham Cove every other Saturday.

They scrounge for the oldest, worst broomsticks they can find from the dump and have a game where they see who can stay afloat the longest.

They stay in on Friday nights curled up together with takeaway as Harry introduces Draco to various muggle movies and TV shows.

They take a portkey to Paris just for the day because—  _ “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried the fresh bread from Boulangerie, Potter.”_

* * *

They also take turns cooking for each other. They even do their laundry together on the designated laundry days that Draco assigns:

“Ok, I hate to admit it, but you may be right, Potter. The muggle way is better. Feels like my clothes are being deep cleaned. And as you know, I only deserve the very best.”

Harry chuckles smugly, “Oh, I know, Malfoy. That’s why you keep me around isn’t it?”

A light flush appears on Draco’s pale, delicate skin and his eyes widen slightly before he gives his signature smirk, “Touché, Potter. Now maybe there’s something else you can do with that mouth besides compliment yourself. I’ll give you a hint: the only sounds you’ll be making will be your heartfelt moans of appreciation you always make whenever you have my cock buried deep in your throat.”

Harry just laughs, “You’re a right fucking arsehole, you know that? Well, if you insist. I would hate to disappoint.” He smirks right back and drops to his knees in front of Draco.

There’s not a lot of talking after that.

* * *

They can also sit in comfortable, companionable silence without it feeling awkward:

Draco’s reading a new research paper about the use of unicorn feces in medicinal potions, feet propped up in Harry’s lap. Harry’s grading the NEWT level papers that he assigned on wandless nonverbal spells for the DADA class that he guest lectures at Hogwarts. He pauses his grading after a bit and begins to firmly massage Draco’s feet and calves. He knows how hard Draco works, the stress accumulating in various areas of his body after dealing with difficult clients and being on his feet brewing most of the day.

Draco lets out a shuddery sigh and melts just a little bit further into the couch. Harry glances over at him, green eyes sincere and kind, lips quirking up slightly, “Relax, Draco. I’ve got you.”

Draco’s grey eyes meet his own, glittering with an emotion that Harry can’t quite place. A mix between vulnerable and trusting and joyful, perhaps? But there’s something else there too.

“Th-thank you, Harry. This is really nice, actually. I’m glad you’re here.”

Harry gives Draco one of his wide grins reserved only for him, “I’m glad I’m here too.”

They go back to reading and grading papers, each man filled with a sort of warmth that has nothing to do with the temperature of the room.

* * *

They’re there for the bad times too.

Harry wakes up in the middle of the night, soaked in sweat, breathing fast and shallow. Another nightmare from either the war or the horrific abuse he endured at the hands of the Dursleys. Sometimes it’s both combined. These dreams always feel so real, too. His magic runs rampant. Light bulbs flicker on and off. Some explode. Objects start to rise up, fly, some of the more fragile ones rattle, shatter, break. He can’t breathe.

“H-Harry?” Draco wakes up next to him, blinking slowly and sleepily before quickly coming to and realizing the situation. “Harry, you’re ok. I’m here. It’s just me and you. Nobody else is here. Just me and you,” He soothes in a soft, caring tone, gently placing a light hand on Harry’s shoulder as his magic starts settling down.

Harry’s still gasping for air, tears pricking in his eyes, body shaking.

“Harry, I want you to breathe in and out with me ok? Match my slow, deep breaths. I’m not going anywhere. You’re not alone,” Draco coaches Harry’s breathing back to normal in a firm yet tender manner.

Harry eventually returns to a calmer state, breathing getting to a normal pace, heart rate still elevated in aftermath of his latest panic attack.

“I’m so sorry, Draco, he says hoarsely, miserably. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. I know you have an early day tomorrow. I- I didn’t mean for it to get so out of control like that,” Harry hesitantly meets Draco’s eyes in apology.

Draco looks the dark-haired man straight in the eyes, his own grey ones burning with a sort of ferocity, “Harry. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. You’ve been through more than anyone should have to deal with in an entire lifetime. You‘re a strong, brave, and powerful war hero. I know you don’t like to hear it, but it’s true. I hate that you have to struggle through these nightmares and flashbacks. I hate that those pieces of shite made you feel like you were worthless because you’re nowhere near worthless. You’re— Harry, you’re everything alright? You’re everything to me. You have nothing to be ashamed of.Absolutely nothing. I  _want_ to be there for you. I  _am_ here for you. I  _will_ be here for you. Now come here and let me hold you.”

Draco reaches out his arms, an invitation for Harry to move to his side of the bed and be wrapped in his warm, comforting embrace.

Harry wipes at his eyes and takes a shaky breathe in as he gives Draco a small, sad smile and moves to be held in Draco’s strong arms, “Thank you, Draco,” he murmurs. He continues in a soft, barely audible voice,“The nightmares and flashbacks have gotten better, but they still happen occasionally. In the past when it happened, I just let myself panic until I passed out again. What you did was a lot better. Just you being here makes it better. I- I trust you, Draco,” Harry slowly glances up at Draco’s face and snuggles further into his arms.

The light-blonde haired man smiles one of his private smiles that Harry’s grown to know and love all too well. He strokes Harry’s hair, scratching his scalp lightly. He replies in a similarly soft and tender tone, “I trust you too, Harry. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You’re allowed to just freely let go and be human.”

Emotionally and physically drained, Harry confidently utters one last thought before drifting off, held securely in Draco’s safe arms, “With you I can be.”

* * *

They’ve never exactly said it, those three little words. Harry’s not exactly sure why. He’s pretty sure they both feel that way. He thinks it’s because hearing “I love you” is such a foreign concept to him. He never heard it growing up with the Dursleys. It never felt necessary to hear those words. Harry’s long learned that people’s actions show how they truly feel. Words can be empty, meaningless. But with Draco, he  _wants_ to tell him. He feels it deep to his very core. They’ve never defined this  _thing_ they have, this  _relationship_ , but that doesn’t make it any less real.

Harry’s completely gone for Draco. Has been for a long time. And Draco—

“You ok, Harry? You got all tense there for a moment,” Draco asks softly, leaning back from their embrace to take a look at him.

Harry takes a step back as well, smiling slightly as he replies, ”Oh yeah, I’m fine. I was just lost in thought there for a moment,” He chuckles lightly. “Let’s take this to the couch, though. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Harry nervously meets Draco’s eyes. The latter looks a bit amused, curious, and is that a hint of nerves as well? Harry’s not sure.

“Your favorite couch, huh? Alright by me then, I’ve been on my feet for most of the day after all,” Draco smiles slightly, his voice somehow teasing yet also a tad apprehensive.

Draco takes Harry’s hand and leads them both to the couch where they sit down next to each other. They sit close, but there’s enough room between them so that they can look at each other comfortably while talking.

“Merlin, Potter. You’re shaking a bit. Are you sure you’re alright? Have you eaten today? I know sometimes you forget. You really ought to watch your blood sugar, you know.” Draco looks uncharacteristically concerned as he watches the dark haired man sitting next to him. He places a hand on Harry’s upper arm, rubbing up and down, privately enjoying the feel of Harry’s muscular bicep under his hand.

Harry takes a deep shaky breath as he looks back at Draco, attempting to smile and reply in an level, calm voice, “I promise, I really am ok. Just a bit nervous, I think. You feeling me up?” He teases, glancing at Draco’s hand on his arm as he raises an eyebrow and laughs a little bit, trying to calm his nerves.

Draco smirks, “Well, not intentionally. I was trying to calm you down since, you know, you’re shaking like you’re a fourth year trying to ask me to go to the Yule Ball with you or some shite. The fact that I happened to choose to rub your marvelously sculpted arm is just an added bonus. It’s really your own fault, with all those gym workouts and lifting sessions you insist on doing with Ron.”

Harry lets out a more full bodied laugh at that, “Hey! I never hear you complaining when I lift your delicate arse up and carry you to bed. But no—yeah— er— anyway, I actually really did want to talk to you about something serious.” Harry pauses, looking into Draco’s grey eyes staring intently back at him.

“So-er- I know we’ve never exactly defined what we have going on here. This  _thing_ , as I like to call it.” Harry chuckles nervously. He continues, “But while you were gone in America, it’s given me a lot of time to think. It’s given me time to actually put what I’ve been feeling into words, which we both know I’m not very good at.”

Harry stops again to try and gauge Draco’s reaction. He looks... shit. Harry hasn’t seen this expression in a long time. Draco looks like he did two years ago, when Harry first asked him to come over for lunch. Draco had thought Harry was joking. 

Emotionless mask up, withdrawn, eyes cold, mouth pressed in a firm straight line.

But Harry knows him better now. Knows him almost better than he knows himself. Harry knows Draco is feeling extremely vulnerable, scared even of what Harry is going to say. He puts the mask up to protect himself, but Harry sees right through it.

“Hey Draco, love,” Harry says softly, unconsciously slipping in the pet name. “Don’t do that alright? I’m not going to say anything bad. I just want to tell you how I feel. Got my nerve up like a bloody Gryffindor and everything, didn’t I?” Harry reaches over to gently cup Draco’s cheek, hoping he won’t pull away.

Draco’s expression softens and he leans into Harry’s hand, mask slipping off again, leaving an open, vulnerable expression in its place. He murmurs shakily “S-Sorry, Harry. Force of habit, I guess. And nerves. I can see why you were shaking now. And it’s good for us to have this conversation. Been a long time coming, I think.” Draco lets out a nervous laugh.

Harry just smiles gently, and continues, “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is— You’re  _it_ for me, Draco. I’m gone for you. It’s always going to  _be_ you. I’m proper in love with you, actually. Have been for a long time. I want to fuckin’ marry you.” Harry pauses to take a deep breath and sees a huge grin spreading across Draco’s face, his eyes twinkling with joy. 

Harry laughs and continues, “There’s not ever going to be anyone else for me. You captivate me, you inspire me, all that shit. So yeah, er— that’s pretty much it; I just really fuckin’ love you.”

Draco’s smiling so wide, Harry thinks it must hurt. His grey eyes glint mischievously, ”Christ, Potter. You really are a bloody sap, aren’t you?”

Draco scoffs lightly and continues, “Harry, I’m so in love with you, I can’t even think straight half the time. No pun intended. I think I realized it that night we were just sitting right here on your bloody couch. It was about a year into our  _thing_ , as you like to call it,” Draco chuckles. Harry’s got his wide grin on now.

“My feet were in your lap. I was reading some potions article and you were grading some papers. Then you just started rubbing my aching feet and massaging the tension out of my calves. Just out of nowhere,” Draco pauses for a moment and takes both of Harry’s hands in his own, looking deep into his earnest green eyes. Harry smiles and nods a couple times.

Draco continues, “And you didn’t know it at the time, but that was the eighth anniversary of my father’s execution. I was trying so hard to keep it together, to keep my mind occupied with other things. I know he wasn’t a good man, but he was still my father, still the man that raised me, and I loved him. And— you know what you said to me? You said, _‘_ _Relax, Draco. I’ve got you.’_ And that’s when I knew. Fuck, Harry. You’re  _it_ for me too, you know? I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” Draco sighs.

“It’s just that I figured we both sort of knew. And I wasn’t sure how much the words would actually mean to you. I know you didn’t hear it a lot growing up. Then you were thrown into our world and started hearing it from random people on the street. But I really do fuckin’ love you too. So bloody much. Like I said, I can’t get you out of my head. I don’t  _want_ to get you out of my head,“ Draco finishes, both of his hands still clasping Harry’s own, not breaking eye contact.

Harry lets out a deep breath that he didn’t even know he was holding and smirks at Draco, “Well I guess you’re a bloody sap too, aren’t you, Malfoy?”

Harry lets go of Draco’s hands so that he can hold out his arms as an invitation to wrap them around Draco and pull him into his lap. He continues, “Well that’s perfectly alright with me. Now come here and let me hold you. I don’t know about you, but I could sure use a good cuddle and snog.”

Draco’s lip quirks up at that as he allows Harry to wrap his muscular arms around him and pull him onto his lap, “Eloquent as always, Potter. Don’t think I can’t see those eyes of yours getting a bit watery there.”

Draco reaches out to wipe Harry’s eyes gently with his thumb. It’s really just a little bit. Draco’s feeling a bit emotional himself, if he’s being quite honest.

Harry laughs softly, still smiling tenderly, and replies a bit indignantly, “I’m emotional ok? There, I said it. You happy now?”

Draco gives Harry one his private smiles, grey eyes kind and earnest, replying, “I’d be happier if you kissed me, Potter.”

Harry grins widely, “I can make that happen.”

He pulls one hand through Draco’s light blonde hair and pulls the strands in that way that makes him  _oh so_ responsive.

Draco gasps and goes boneless, melting further into Harry’s lap, breathlessly whimpering, “H-Harry, that’s n-not fair. Y-you know how I-I g-get.”

Harry’s eyes twinkle. He firmly grabs hold of the back of Draco’s neck, drawing him close as he lazily and slowly exchanges opened mouthed kisses with the now deliciously pliant Draco. Their tongues tangle languidly, simply drawing each other in and enjoying one another’s closeness.

Draco leans back a bit after a while, eyebrows scrunched in mock concentration as he asks Harry, “So what was that you were saying earlier about wanting to marry me? Sounds like a pretty bloody good idea if you ask me,” Draco teases, yearning and tenderness clear in his eyes

Harry grins impossibly widely, “I can make that happen too. I fuckin’ love you after all.”

Draco smiles beautifully, pale skin flushed, “I fuckin’ love you too, Harry.”


End file.
